The Way the World Ends
by EvilDime
Summary: Collection of drabbles and song fics. Some angst, some fun, some utter randomness. Only common theme: This is the end.
1. Poetry

_**A/N:** This is a collection of drabbles some of which have been lying around on my hard drive for years. Since I'll never write actual stories around them, I thought I might as well post them as is. In the unlikely case that one of these inspires you to write a longer fic, let me know and I'll read and link it. :P …Now some of these are inspired by other fics, some by songs or poems. Some are funny (I think), some are pretty sad or downright evil. Enjoy!_

_**Disclaimer:** Neither the words of JK Rowling nor those of John Donne belong to me, and I certainly make no money with this work of fiction. (Poem: "Meditation XVII" by John Donne)_

_**Warning:** Some deaths._

**Poetry**

_by Dime_

"Potter! What does that mean? Whose body is this?" Malfoy pointed to the slack form of a currently expiring Dark Lord.

"Are you fond of poetry, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a smirk.

The aristocratic man stared at him with wild eyes.

"Ever heard of John Donne?" Harry stalked closer when Malfoy suddenly turned deathly pale and clutched at his Dark Mark.

"_Never __send to know __for whom the __b__ell tolls_," Harry quoted in his ear, "_it tolls for thee._"

And as Voldemort breathed his last, so did his Death Eaters everywhere in the world. Malfoy collapsed without a sound. And Harry looked down on him with contempt.

"Idiot," he snarked before he apparated away.


	2. Who Will Buy

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own the world of Harry Potter, nor Oliver!, nor the Marvel universe, nor anything else you may recognize (which is hopefully all these words, though not exactly in this order...). The song parodied here is "Who will buy" from the musical "Oliver!"._

_**A/N: **It all started with the little pony... though neither me nor Poet remember today how this ever came up! :P_

**Who will buy**

_by Dime_

The Wizarding World has gone to ruin. The heroes we know and love are leaving the Leaky Cauldron to try and sell their last possessions in Muggle London.

Enter Draco, stage right, looking lost.  
"Who will buy my little pony,  
well groomed, for a penny?  
Who will buy my little pony,  
well groomed, for a penny?"

Pansy Parkinson, carrying a ball of Acromantula silk.  
"Will you buy and silk today, mistress?  
Any silk today, mistress?"

(Draco: "Who will buy my little pony?")

(Pansy: "Any silk today, mistress?")

(Draco: "- well groomed, for a penny.")

Enter Luna, looking exuberant and dreamy, carrying a basket of radishes:  
"Ripe dirigible plums!  
Ripe dirigible plums!  
...Ripe dirigible plums!"

(Pansy: "Any silk today, mistress?")

(Draco: "Who will buy my little pony?")

Snape, prowling sour-faces through the background, muttering to himself:  
"Mind: clear your mind!  
Clear your foolish mind.  
Mind: clear your mind!  
Clear your foolish mind!"

(All: "Who will buy... who will buy... who will buy?")

Focus on Ginny Weasley, leaning out a window of Hogwarts castle, watching Harry circling the Quidditch pitch.  
"Who will buy this wonderful hero?  
Such a guy you never did see!"

(Draco: "Who will buy my little pony?")

Ginny:  
"Who will tie him up with a ribbon  
and put him in a bed for me?"

(Luna: "Ripe dirigible plums!")

Ginny:  
"So I can see him at my leisure  
whenever things go wrong  
and I shall keep him for my pleasure  
to last my whole life long!"

(Pansy: "Any silk today...?")

Harry, oblivious, desperately clutching his Firebolt:  
"Who will buy this wonderful broomstick?  
I'm so high I swear I could fly!"

(Snape: "Mind: clear your mind!")

(Luna: "Ripe dirigible plums!")

Harry:  
"Me, oh my! I don't want to lose it!  
So what am I to do  
to keep the magic true?  
There must be someone  
who will buy...?"

(All: "Who will buy... who will buy... who will buy... who will buy?")

All:  
"Who will buy this wonderful hero?  
Such a guy you never did see!  
Who will tie him up with a ribbon  
and put him in a bed for me?

"There'll never be a death so funny  
It has to happen twice  
Where is the man with all the money?  
He's cheap at half the price!"

"Who will buy this wonderful magic?  
We're so high, we swear we can fly!  
Me, oh my! We don't want to lose it!  
So what are we to do  
to keep the magic true?"

Harry:  
"There must be someone who will buy...?"

All: "Who will... buy?"

[Enter Taneleer Tivan, stage left. Clears throat. "If I may...?"]


	3. Fudged

_**Disclaimer:** The world of Harry Potter isn't mine, sadly. Also, in case anyone was wondering, I am not getting paid for writing this..._

_**Warning: **major character death_

_**A/N:** Short, I know. Sorry. After Fudge enters the scene, there just isn't much left to write home about._

**Fudged**

_by Dime_

"No! You can't give him Veritaserum! With his condition, it will kill him!"

"Aurors, take that man away," Fudge loftily commanded. Then he tilted the vial into Harry's mouth himself. "Now Potter, what does that prophecy of Dumbledore's say?"

"I am the only one... who can kill... Volde..."

And with these final words, Harry Potter left the wizarding world and mortal life for good.

Fudge was not re-elected.


	4. Lather Rinse Repeat

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own the world of Harry Potter. It's all Rowling's, and I love her for giving us all such a wonderful playground! ^^_

_**A/N:** I am sure my take on time travel defies logic. I like it, though. :P_

**Lather, Rinse, Repeat**

_by Dime_

Harry looked around the tiny pantry off Grimmauld Place No. 12's kitchen. He'd have to sneak out of the house silently, since it seemed inhabited. Obviously, he'd gone back in time a good deal further than he originally planned.  
Well, he would make sure to keep this time's Harry Potter out of trouble...

A tiny 'crack' alerted him to someone apparating right next to him.  
Someone invisible.

"What-!"

This sounded very much like his own voice.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Harry raised a hand to tear the invisibility cloak off the other guy.

He might as well have looked into a mirror.

"You...?"

"After the battle of Hogwarts. You?"

"Same."

"So I failed to change the past."

"But..."

"Well, Professor Snape always said it was a foolish thing to temper around with time. Guess he was right."

"Well, I won't fail like you did!"

"Hold on a sec, I only just got here!"

"Yeah, but you obviously failed, since I'm here too!"

"Well I'd like to see you do better!"

As they gave each other their best glare, which both painfully realized wasn't all that scary, a 'crack' announced another person.

"What-!"

"Heh," the first Harry triumphed, "see, you failed, too!"


	5. Innocent

_**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Harry Potter. So sad. _

_**Warning: **Death and darkness. _

**Innocent**

_by Dime_

The men stared in horror at the unmoving figure slouched in a corner of the cell. All that was left of their hero, their hope, the last of the Potters, was a broken, insane young man, disconnected from reality and completely innocent of the crime he had been imprisoned for.

"Harry, my dear boy...," Dumbledore began as he knelt down beside his former student. Sirius leaned in closer, along with Percy Weasley - accompanying the minister, who was not quite his pompous self, yet insanely curious as to the insanity of Dumbledore's golden boy.

Who suddenly moved, after all.

"Harry? We have come to tell you that we -"

It took a second. No, less than a second. In a flurry of motion, Harry Potter exploded from his crouched position against the wall and struck at three of the four people crowding him in quick succession.

"...know you're innocent," Dumbledore breathed out. Then he fell down to the floor, dead.

Harry had cut the throats of the three men with a sharpened piece of rock.

Cold, green eyes looked up at the last man standing – Percy Weasley. "So, innocent, am I?" he asked hoarsely.


	6. His Miracle

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor the song used below ("There Can Be Miracles" by Mariah Carey). _

_**Warning: **major character death._

_**A/N:** Very pathetic. But fun, in a deranged way... *shrugs*_

**His Miracle**

_by Dime_

_"There can be miracles  
When you believe  
Though hope is frail  
It's hard to kill  
Who knows what miracles  
You can achieve  
When you believe  
Somehow you will..."_

The dark shape on the floor of the small cell weakly lifted its head. Blurry vision suddenly became sharp and focused, for the first time in weeks. The old muggle song not heard since that last, fateful summer started ringing in the head covered by dirty, matted hair, louder and louder, until the prisoner wasn't even aware of his own painful moans anymore.

And suddenly, the world around him ceased to matter.

It did not matter that he was on his knees in a cold, dark and hopeless place.

It did not matter that he had not seen the sun in almost five months.

It did not matter that his scar was by now the part of his body that hurt least.

It did not matter that he knew he had failed.

None of it mattered anymore.

Somewhere in this world or beyond, there was peace, and quiet. He never thought he would know those again. Not after they had cursed him to stay alive through his torments. Not after they stripped him of his garments, his integrity, his beliefs, and his hope.

But they had forgotten one important truth far older than wars and Dark Lords, older than heroes and wizards and all. It was a truth he himself had forgotten, but now it appeared before his eyes, shining brightly like the sun, and that truth gave him hope.

There could be miracles.

He smiled.

The song and light stretched all around him, and without looking back, he let them carry him away.

And so died Harry Potter.


	7. Pretty Good

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, nor the West Side Story. The songs quoted are "I feel pretty" and "America" from the West Side Story. ...Also, "Time to say Goodbye" by Andrea Bocelli and Sarah Brightman (which, unfortunately, I also do not own)._

_**Warning**: ridiculous character death_

_**A/N:** There was a time when I read a lot of fics that involved Harry being captured by the Death Eaters. Listening to a musical compilation while reading, it turns out, really screwed with my head... _

**Pretty Good**

_by Dime_

_"I feel pretty,  
Oh, so pretty,  
I feel pretty and witty and bright...!"_

Voldemort watched with uncomprehending eyes as Harry Potter stopped begging and sobbing and suddenly stood up from the floor - which his wounds should have made impossible, let alone the detached impassivity he had displayed for some time now.

But Potter, in his torn and blood crusted pyjamas, came to his feet in one flowing motion. He took one hesitating step to his left, swayed his hips, took another step; lifted the hem of his destroyed nightshirt as though it were a girly dress; and then he began dancing.

_"I feel pretty..."_

Voldemort and twelve of his most trusted Death Eaters watched in baffled silence as the formerly mostly-dead Boy-Who-Lived whirled and pranced through the Dark Lord's conference hall like he had not a care in the world, singing and dancing to an exceedingly odd muggle song.

Suddenly, the tune changed. Voldemort blinked. Potter now looked not even half as mad as he had a minute ago.

_"I like to be in America"_, the boy sang, and there was a note of newly awakened determination to his song. Then, with a 'crack' that would echo through the hall for a long time to come, he vanished.

Voldemort, however, suddenly remembered an old muggle song he had heard while he still lived in the orphanage. "_Time tooooo say gooooood-byyeee...__"_

Totally pissed with the workings of his weird brain, the Dark Lord proceeded to repeatedly bash his head against the wall until his lifeless body sank to the floor, finally silent for good.


	8. The Stalker

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of this and also do not make any money with my writing._

_**Warning****s****: **Slash. Stalking. Darkness. __Death._

**The Stalker**

_by Dime_

Colin Creevy's face is serious a he considers the person sitting across from him in the little office. Seeing nothing but truth and pain in her eyes, he finally relents.

"Very well, I will show you."

He slowly opens a drawer in his desk, takes out the fake bottom, extracts a small briefcase which he then unseals by undoing some choice keyword-protected charms.

"This is where it all started..."

He puts the first picture in front of his visitor. The woman leans in with an eager expression, only to reel back in shock.

The picture of the small raven-haired boy in the embrace of an equally black-haired, tall man would not have been so unusual, were it not for the boy's overly large clothing and the fact that the man's eyes are... red.

Other pictures follow, and the visitor is slowly coming to terms with what she is seeing.

_A __kiss in the night on the way to __H__ogsmeade. __S__ecret meeting__s. F__ights and pain. __S__ex_.

She quirks an eyebrow at the photographer at that last one, but he only shruggs. "You knew this about me already."

"True." She continues going through the pictures. The next few are especially painful.

_Harry and his friends, fighting, drifting apart, struggling back together, but in the end: failing. _

Here it is, the end of the Hogwarts Trio, forever captured in a still, black-and-white shot.

_Hermione Granger, storming off in frustration; Ron Weasley, with a glowing hand print on his cheek, ranting at Harry, visibly blaming him. Harry Potter, face __white and tear-streaked,__ biting his lip... __turning his back on his former friend and walking away._

The next pictures show the battles, of which there have been many. There are pictues of heroes, cowards, innocent victims, horrible deeds, mutilated corpses. Pictures of war. They never change.

And amidst it all, Harry Potter, eyes nearly all dead and blank, but still with a spark of _something_ in them. The woman quickly flicks through the battles, looking for... Her breath catches.

There it is.

The demise of the Dark Lord. Finally. Everyone celebrating. And right in the middle, in the center of the party and yet somehow overlooked by everyone - Harry Potter. _Crying. _

"There are... two more," the photographer says hesitantly. He pushes another picture towards the woman. She picks it up. It shows a messy-haired, thin figure slowly vanishing in the darkness beneath the trees of the Forbidden Forest.

_Harry Potter. Going off alone, never to be seen again. _

"You did not try to hold him back?"

Earnest eyes meet hers. "I could not have. I never mattered. All I could do was observe - how it started... how it continued..."

Colin slowly puts the last picture on the table. "And this is where it ends."

_A lonely, unmarked grave deep in the Forbidden Forest._


	9. Homecoming

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own the world of Harry Potter. It's still JK Rowling's, afaik._

_**Warning: **Slash, possibly underage.  
_

**Homecoming**

_by Dime_

The four teenagers in the magical carriage were jostled about as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. Harry, Neville, Ron and Hermione looked at each other in confusion.

"Why did we stop? We're in the middle of nowhere!" Hermione cried. She looked anxiously out of the window.

"Do you think it might be Death Eaters?" Neville whispered.

"I don't see anything..." Ron commented, also looking out the window.

"One way to find out," Harry said, opening the door. He ignored his friends' cries and stepped outside.

If it were Death Eaters, he would be surprised, but not shocked. Out of the four of them, he knew he was the most likely to survive an encounter with a Death Eater without so much as a scratch. He snorted. Unless he pissed them off royally, that was.

"No one in sight," Harry drawled lazily, trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes widened as he realized exactly where they were.

At the gates of the Hogwarts school grounds. And also at the border of the wards. Suddenly, their stop made only too much sense.

Surprisingly, it was Ron, not Hermione, who came to a similar conclusion right after exiting the carriage. "Mate, don't tell me you're barred from entering the school again!"

"Again?" Neville asked in confusion.

"Well, it's just like second year," Ron explained, "when Malfoy's crazy House Elf was trying to protect Harry and thought the best way to do that would be to close the gate to Platform 9 ¾ to Harry. It bloody hurt, running up against that thing!"

Harry sighed. Ron was close, but not quite right. "I don't know of any slightly homicidal House Elves that might currently feel inclined to protect me."

But of course, he could not tell his friends the real reason, either.

"Try whether you can step through."

One after the other, his friends went through the gate. All three of them were now on Hogwarts ground. Harry tried to follow them, but it was as he had feared: The wards refused him.

"Well, it's obvious that something is holding me back, and it's specific to me alone. How about you three go on up ahead and tell a teacher to come get me?"

"Harry! We can't leave you out here alone. What if a Death Eater comes by? They can't enter the Hogwarts grounds, but out here, you're easy prey!"

"And you think two of us have a chance against a group of Death Eaters?" Harry asked cynically. Then he relented. "I have my father's cloak with me, Hermione. I'll be fine. But the three of you really should get out of the rain before you catch a cold."

Hermione still didn't like it, but eventually, she gave in.

Harry watched his three friends walk away, and he shivered at the sight. But not from the cold and the rain. He wondered when he would ever see them again, and if, when the time came, they would raise their wands against him.

Shrugging off the sombre thoughts, he pressed his wand to his left arm and Apparated.

* * *

"Back already?"

"The wards wouldn't let me in."

"That is surprising. Snape is keyed in, but they did let in Quirrell, Peter and Barty."

"Apparently, they like me less than a Death Eater with the Dark Lord sticking out of his head."

That earned him a laugh.

"Oh, but then you have a Dark Lord _inside _your head most days, not to mention other parts of your anatomy. Though they might simply have finally upgraded the wards."

Harry slapped the other man for his lewd joke, then sank down in his lap anyway. "Some days, loving a Dark Lord seems more trouble than it's worth, Tom."

His Lord and lover smiled at him."Yes, but you love me anyway."

Harry nodded ruefully, then turned his head to kiss the older man.

And they became one.

* * *

_A/N:_ _Maybe this makes up a little for the sad Stalker drabble. Although I am not entirely sure the grave in that one is Harry's. :P I find it entirely possible that Voldemort found out about the stalker boy before the final battle and used him to his advantage. Somewhere, far away, Harry and Voldemort might be living together in peace. ;-) ...Or not. I leave it to you. I've seen the grave, but I just really don't know if it's Harry's._


	10. Happy Reunion

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter. (For more suprising revelations, see earlier disclaimers.)_

_**A/N: **This one's not as dark as it looks. Nor as final. Though I admit, the ending is evil. :P - Last of these drabbles for now. Might come back to this later, though, so will not mark this as complete. Thanks to everyone who's read and liked (and to xxnotamalfoyxx, my lone reviewer...:P)  
_

**Happy Reunion**

_by Dime_

"Kill him, Severus."

Harry didn't know why Voldemort would no longer attempt to do the deed himself, but currently, he was more preoccupied with being afraid and hating his Potions Professor, anyway.

He had always hated Snape, and no mistake; but until Snape brought him to the Dark Lord today, he had not been aware of just how much Snape hated him.

"It is a pity my phoenix core wand has the tendency to refuse killing other phoenix-minded wizards. I'm glad they are so rare..."

Had Harry been listening, Voldemort's rambling might actually have been interesting. However, at the moment the evil smirk on Snape's face took up all of his attention.

"Good bye, Potter, you obnoxious brat!" Snape snarled and raised his wand.

Voldemort, unperturbed by the goings-on, kept up his commentary. "Of course, your wand has its own limitations, doesn't it, Severus? I am told that because dragons are fiercely loyal to their family, your wand refused when you tried to kill your drunkard Muggle father with it. Pity you had to waste good potions on a Muggle..."

"Indeed," Snape purred. "I am glad I will not have to waste my stores on this one. After all, he is not and will never be _family_ to me, in any sense of the word. _Avada Kedavra."_

Harry opened one eye, then the other. He looked straight into startled black ones.

"Family?" he asked uncertainly. "Er, hello father, I guess..."

Snape actually shook his head. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me!"


End file.
